India

Never too old to lead?

IN A country that delights in calling itself the world's largest democracy, elections are taken very seriously indeed. Even internal ballots in political parties are watched with intense interest. At the moment, Indians of every kind—politicians, journalists and tea drinkers at roadside stalls—are fixated on increasingly bitter struggles within the country's oldest political organisation, the Congress party, and one of its newest, the Janata Dal.

Congress's options might seem uninspiring to those who consider charisma, oratory or vision important attributes in a politician. The clear front-runner is the incumbent, Sitaram Kesri—a portly, smiling bachelor of 78, whose age and clownish appearance belie his guile and backroom skills. The dog-loving Congress leader (he keeps four impeccably groomed Pomeranians, and insists that press photographers include them in their pictures) recently brought down a prime minister, Deve Gowda, by withdrawing Congress's support from his coalition. But he then failed to achieve his stated aim of becoming prime minister in his own right.

Mr Kesri's name keeps popping up in the strangest places. Police investigating the grisly murder and mutilation of one of his acquaintances may want to question him as a possible witness. There are also unproven allegations of involvement in some of the more infamous financial scandals of recent years—charges that are almost inevitable, given Mr Kesri's long-time position as the Congress party's treasurer.

But despite all the allegations and the debacle of his failed attempt to become prime minister, Mr Kesri's victory in next week's vote is almost assured. This owes everything to his ability to manipulate the complex electoral college that chooses the party president, and to take advantage of Congress's obsessive desire to opt for the devil it knows, rather than take even moderate risks. Other senior Congress figures may also back him because he is too old to be a long-term obstacle to their own ambitions. The Congress front rank is made up of septuagenarians, balanced by the occasional octagenarian. Mr Kesri's two challengers, by contrast, are mere striplings.

First is 56-year-old Sharad Pawar, a wily political boss from the industrial state of Maharashtra. Mr Pawar is said to have a deep understanding of the complex and often shady workings of India's main financial centre, Mumbai (Bombay). He began the electoral race with some influential supporters, but Mr Kesri's machinations have prised many of them away. Many think Mr Pawar is not really serious about being party president, or even prime minister—but wants his old job back, chief minister of Maharashtra.

The most interesting candidate is Rajesh Pilot, a former minister who is a relative infant at just 52. He acquired his unusual surname during his 15 years as a squadron-leader in the air force. Despite his name change, he is proud of his origins as a Gujar—a caste of cattle herders. On the hustings, he drives his own vehicle from village to village, tying a colourful cattleman's turban around his head before addressing the crowds. Unlike the Congress party as a whole, Mr Pilot increased his share of the vote at the last election. But his very charisma and youth make him suspect in the eyes of party elders.

If such a contest does not bode well for India's once invincible founding party, then the Janata Dal—the party of the prime minister, Inder Gujral—may be even feebler. A fratricidal contest is in prospect that could divide a grouping that already has relatively few seats in parliament, despite its leadership of the coalition government.

The battle is between two colourful low-caste politicians from the northern state of Bihar. Both are named Yadav, a reference to their caste. One is the state chief minister, Laloo Prasad Yadav, the current party president. He is the Janata Dal's most popular figure but federal police want to charge him in an embezzlement scandal worth hundreds of millions of dollars. His opponent, Sharad Yadav, is also tainted by scandal. His most recent contribution to federal politics was to lead a vocal rebellion against his own prime minister's attempts to introduce a bill to set aside a third of parliamentary seats for women. If Sharad Yadav wins, then his former friend, Laloo, will probably split an already tiny party, diluting its relevance further.